In the Shadows
by fascimility
Summary: [Will eventually be Akihika] The progress of Touya and Shindou into the Go world... how it changed their lives.. more importantly, how it changed the lives of those around them, past and present. Please read and review! :)
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikaru No Go, never did and never will. :)

Author's notes: This fic is part 1 out of about 5, so sorry if the action hasn't started yet. I promise, it'll come soon! This is just a scene that opens everything and is rather necessary. Ummm… just thought I'd come up with something . Flames are welcome, they'd help me improve and will probably tell me how hopeless I am at writing so that I should stop writing crap _ Gomen… don't kill me if this really sucks. ^.^  Read and review~!

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*~ In the Shadows~*

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The snow fell, its gentle descent like a cloud of feathers whirling and dancing in the air. 

He stood in the midst of the swirling mass, the delicate snowflakes landing softly upon his flowing ebony hair.  The landscape was brilliant, dazzling; a world encased in a flawless white shroud.

A shroud indeed. A beautiful shimmering prison, in which he lay eternally condemned. Had the gods intended a fate so cruel for him? He glanced round, taking in the cold perfection of it all , the god-like quality that the world around seemed to possess… 

_Perhaps then, it is all my fault? To desire the impossible so ardently that I forced myself into an eternal limbo?  All I wanted was to reach that ultimate pinnacle of perfection! _

It was finally his, that perfection that lay like a shining, unblemished pearl that lay at the end of his thousand year struggle. He sought the hand of god, the beauty of ultimate perfection.

And he had been rewarded. The bitter irony of it all.

_I never wanted this… _

The glowing amethyst eyes dulled with pain, the bright orbs clouded with tears. His vision blurred, solace eluding his grasp. He let out a loud cry, eyes affixed heavenward, imploring the gods for his release. He had to find a way out. He did what he would never have dreamt of doing –he ran. Ran away from the pain of it all, blindly plunging deep into the snow, heading for a direction unknown.

He would never have run. That was the cowardly thing to do. He would face the challenges head on, determined to use his skill to achieve victory. But when one plays the game with gods, fate and chance are on the wrong side. So he ran.

His shoes left their imprints , his rapid footsteps quickly covered by a blanket of falling snow. Still he dashed wildly, hoping that by some remote chance the gateway out would reveal itself. 

_Kami-sama! I need to escape, I need to get out! I can't be trapped here! Anywhere, even another Go-ban, it dosen't matter! _

He stopped suddenly, his hair fanning out behind him. Shadows flitted past, their indistinct forms a fleeting vision. 

He could have sworn that he had seen Torajiro.

He had also seen the Heian court ladies, their plump forms adorned richly in embroided silk and hair set with precious ornaments. They giggled as they passed by, elegantly lifting their silk fans to cover their smiles.

_Wait! Wait for me Torajiro! I want to see you again! Please, don't go and leave me alone in this place! Please, Torajiro! I've always wanted to see you again… You were taken from me, and I from Hikaru. Please, you're the only remnant of the life I once led. Come back!_

He ran forward, outstretched hands groping in the semi-darkness. 

The bamboo groves yielded nothing. Emerald leaves waved softly in the wind, their depths obscured from the world.

_Torajiro…I…I…_

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He sat in the bamboo grove, watching, waiting amongst the shadows. His hand was poised in mid-air, a stone gracefully held between his fingers.

The board gleamed with its intricate monochrome pattern, where black and white danced together. Order proceeding from chaos, meaning from insignificance. Where black and white played out their eternal struggle for dominance. 

He played out his games, the important, the insignificant, yet all  mersmerising in their brilliance. He lost himself there, in the game, the moves flowing from his hands with ease. He ran through his older games, those whose history spanned more than half a century.

Stones fell methodically, the sound of stone upon wood oddly comforting. Go was his only solace, his only purpose in life.  

But here, he had been forced from it. 

_It takes two brilliant stars of equal genius to reach the hand of god. One alone is powerless. Two will bring the blinding revelation upon the world.  
  
_

He replayed another game, lost in thought, until he realised that he had stopped at the fifth hand. That was odd…. it was white's turn, and white had not replied. Then it struck him—he was white. Then why hadn't he played? His memory held no further moves… the game seemed to end there.

_ The final game on earth…. The last game with Hikaru… The game that I never finished._

Tears flowed down his face in rivulets, freezing on his cheek even before he could brush them away. The wind stung his face, the blizzard of snow obscuring his vision. The snowflakes were dancing now, their delicate forms indistinct as they flitted lightly by. The wind hurried them on as it whipped mercilessly past, leaving in its wake only chill and regrets.

_Regrets... Time soothes all pain… does it?_

He toyed with his fan, stroking its slender form and using it as a shield against the pounding snow. His heavy silk clothes were almost oppressive in their weight, the folds of cloth swaying in the gale. His elegant features wan, drained of the warmth once present. The wind tugged wildly at his hair, enticing the graceful strands to break loose to whip round his head. 

He closed his eyes, letting darkness settle gently over his vision, relishing the calmness and detachment that it afforded him  Torajiro appeared in his mind, his smiling countenance giving him reassurance. The way Torajiro would shake his head and smile, the way his eyes would light up with laughter, the way his fingers placed each stone down…

They all came back as a rush to him. His heart wrenched with pain and longing, willing himself to return to the mortal realm. Those times that he had treasured, those days that were no more.

How ironic, he thought. 

_Once, I had asked for infinite time, so I could reach the hand of God. Now, I reside in a place where time and space were fluid, where entropy and randomness reign._

Time was no longer an issue. It was a curse. 

Kami had a decidedly cruel sense of humour. 

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He'd learnt too late.

_*~One may not live solely for Go, lest one's heart grow cold and devoid of any dram of passion. Whereupon, one shall join the ranks of the many failures before him.~*_

As for Hikaru… perhaps he wasn't so far beyond redemption after all.

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The snow had cleared, the landscape whitewashed and sparkling. Golden shafts of light illuminated the bamboo grove, piercing the canopy and bathing it in soft light. The shadows were gone, banished into the dark realm in which they belonged. For the first time, Fujiwara no Sai smiled a genuine smile, his violet eyes sparkling in the morning light.

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You stuck all the way through? Yay! ^.^ 


	2. Mrs Shindou's Take

Disclaimer: Hikaru No Go and its characters belong to Hotta Yumi-sensei and Obata Takeshi-sensei. NOT me!!! ^^

Author's notes: Thank you the two of you who reviewed! You have no idea how gratified I am to receive those treasured reviews! I am not dramatising this, honest! Thank you again for being so nice! (I didn't expect any reviews at all) By the way, I have no idea how this fic turned out so strange. I tried my best!  Doesn't matter if the reviews aren't good, please review! Thank you!

And yes, the action will come later ^^ I swear upon my love for Hikago. :)

~Chapter 1~

The soft light streamed in through the curtains, the wavering patches of gold dancing on the adjacent wall. Cream curtains billowed in the breeze, rippling gently as the wind raced in. 

Mrs Shindou set down the feather duster with which she had been cleaning the furniture with, pausing to adjust her apron before making her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. 

She hummed a little tune while walking, her slippered feel padding softly over the floor. It was a rather catchy tune, she thought, a nice jingle for some brand of detergent. Which reminded her, here she made a mental note, to make sure that she purchased some detergent the next time she dropped by the supermarket. 

And of course, she had to collect the suits from the lauder mat's next door. With the kind of suits Hikaru wore, Mrs Shindou was sure that he'd easily be mistaken for an adult. Her husband didn't even start wearing anything remotely presentable till he'd found a job. 

Then again, this _was_ Hikaru's job, Mrs Shindou reminded herself. She still could not tear herself away from the fact that Hikaru had grown up, found a job, and was earning his own money. She simply couldn't except that the spoiled, foolish boy she had adored was gone, only to be replaced by this serious, mature adult. 

It was almost like watching an old movie where everything had been fast forwarded. The transformation had been so sudden, so complete; it was as though he'd never been the genki, loud teenager. It was impossible in its rapidity.

Well, boys had a growth spurt, didn't they, so it had to be one of those things that puberty brought on, Mrs Shindou concluded. But it really had been like watching a film, she thought. It was the way she was so detached from everything: she didn't even know what was happening in his daily life. Who he met, what he did, where he went… Heck, she didn't even know what he did for a living. 

She was an outsider. She was so distanced that she felt she didn't even have the right to pry into his affairs anymore. Well, in the beginning, she _had_ tried to enquire, to show a "healthy interest"(as the child rearing book had termed it) in his life et cetera… But in the end she had just concluded that nothing really worked. 

Sure, he'd tried to explain. But the numerous titles and terminology had her muddled after just two minutes. By the time Hikaru had launched into an explanation for the fifth time, she began to sympathise for her son's inability to retain much of his schoolwork. 

She had to accept it: Her son was grown up, a responsible adult now, and what he did was none of her business. 

Mrs Shindou wondered if her thoughts were normal for a concerned mother of a teenager. After all, didn't those child rearing books strongly caution against being over-protective? That's right, she had to learn when to let go. 

Still, if caring about her son's welfare meant being over-protective, then she had to do it. She had been so frightened the night she realised that Hikaru hadn't gone to sleep even at 4 in the morning because he'd been too caught up reviewing past games. And there was that day she came back only to find him slumped in front of the go-ban in his room, kifu in his hand and a go stone still between his fingers.

It was during those times that Mrs Shindou felt that she was offered an insight into her son's life. A life completely devoted to Go. It was then that she slowly began to realise that Go wasn't just a game, pastime, or livelihood. It was Hikaru's body and soul. 

That fact had shocked her the first time she admitted it to herself. She'd know it all the while—Hikaru had blatantly told her time and again—yet she had conveniently stored it at the back of her mind, hoping that it would be buried there and never resurface again. She'd tried subconsciously to ignore the fact because she couldn't accept it. 

Which mother aspired for her child to live merely for a game? Well alright, it was an intellectual game and a highly respected one at that, she conceded, but still it was downright peculiar. 

Didn't normal high school kids study, take the exams, and move on to collage? Hikaru had been a normal teenager, so why didn't he just take the normal path like everyone else and save everyone so much worry? Mrs Shindou sighed.

It wasn't as if he had an inadequate intellect. She'd given him a good education, and she rationalised that anyone who could spend up to six hours concentrating on _and winning_ an impossibly complicated game couldn't be too deficient in the mental area. 

So it wasn't her fault then, Mrs Shindou thought, relieved. But honestly, Hikaru's behaviour was just odd. A boy who slept on a bed (not a futon), who never had put on a hakama, flunked all his Japanese History and Literature tests, should suddenly embrace an ancient Japanese game. And devote energy to it with a fervor that was astounding.

Her son was an enigma that she could never solve. 

Perhaps the thing that really changed Hikaru was the time when he'd forfeited all his games and practically abandoned Go. It was the haunted quality that came into his eyes that had really frightened her… and the way his face reflected a depth of sadness that even she couldn't comprehend. That had really been the turning point.

Though what really happened, Mrs Shindou felt she would never know. It was one of those things that no matter how she probed and asked, she'd never get a satisfactory answer to. It was one of the things that Hikaru deserved to keep to himself. Time would heal all wounds.

But at that time, she'd been worried enough to call up the school and speak to his teacher. There was nothing that they could do, she had been told. Hikaru had refused to play, and all the better, could then concentrate on his studies and scrape up a decent grade. 

There wasn't much she could do either. The blow that Hikaru had sustained was obviously a violent one, and as his mother, she'd grown too distanced to be able to help him. Instead, she settled for offering him her silent support during that period. 

She didn't even scold him for being irresponsible. She didn't even mention the subject. She'd just continued daily life like normal, updating him with how Mrs Makato's cat was doing, how Mr Subara had dumped his longtime girlfriend … She knew he wasn't really listening to her then. But the fact that it brought some semblance of normality into Hikaru's life meant something to her. 

Then he'd bounced back. Just regained his stride with the same rapidity with which he decided to forfeit the games. Mrs Shindou let out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding. She know that in whatever Hikaru chose to do, she'd support him all the way through, because that was the way to do it. The right way to be a mother.

Mrs Shindou knew she'd surrendered her son to Go without a fight. She knew that from the moment he entered the Go world, he'd been completely sucked into its swirling vortex and pulled along in the raging waters. She'd been powerless to stop it.

What happened had already happened. She wasn't about to try to stop the impossible… she admitted that she'd lost her son to a game. Wait, that wasn't how whe was supposed to think. Hikaru wasn't her son, he was Shindou Hikaru , professional, Rising star of the Go World. 

All she had the right to be was his mother. 

But she was going to be darned if she didn't treasure that responsibility and make good use of it.  Hikaru was still a boy under her wing. 

She _was_ going to look after him and that was that. 

Suddenly, she realised that Hikaru hadn't woken up yet. It was already eight in the morning and he was going to be late. She broke off form her reverie to rush to the foot of the stairs to shout at Hikaru. 

"Hikaru, wake up! It's time for school! You're already late!"

A long pause followed.

"Wake up! Hikaru, you're already late!!"

Mrs Shindou smiled to herself, some things never did change. 

You stuck all the way through?! ^^ Please review! Action will come later, I promise! 


	3. Wind, Smoke & Oolong tea

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikago. Never did and never will ^^

Notes: Title was courtesy of Shindou-Chan ^^ It sounds really good!! Thank you so much for the help, Shindou-Chan!! :)

Gomenasai~ *dodges various sharp objects flying towards person* This chapter is horribly done and I don't have the strength or the resources to change it…sorry. Everyone is going to murder me!!!! *wails*  To Regatto and everyone else [who really made my day, I was jumping up and down when I got your reviews], GOMEN for letting all of you down. :) RL was getting in the way all the time so the chapter was done in half and hour and posted as the technician threatened to lock me in the lab.

I just want to thank all the past reviewers!! *glomps* I was overjoyed *hugs everyone* when I got your reviews! Sorry for this AWFUL chapter, [Regatto, see, I did let you down after all. I'm especially sorry to you] I'll make the next one better, I promise! ^^ And DO NOT review this chapter!![I mean it! I love reviews, but this time I don't deserve them, so DO NOT review!!!]

Sorry again, everyone~ ^^

~Chapter 2~

Dusk fell. 

Delicate crimson seeped gently across the sky, tinting the evening light pale amber. The sun, set stunningly at the edge of the horizon, glowed a dusky gold.

The lone car cast its solitary shadow, framed by the graceful silhouettes of falling leaves. Its polished exterior was bathed in the ruby glow of the sunset, accentuating the colour of its crimson body. 

A silent figure leaned against it, shrouded in the shifting shadows. Wisps of grey smoke uncurled between elegant fingers, creating a dense cloud like an aura.

The evening breeze picked up gently, dispersing the cloud and sending a gentle cascade of leaves on their downward descent. The man felt the wind tousle his immaculate hair, sending the blond strands awry. 

The tip of the cigarette glowed red hot, like the smoldering embers in a dying fire. He looked on idly as the heat faded, leaving the ash to flake off, one by one, the remnants riding the passing wind as they too, began their downward spiral.

The cigarette fell the ground, a mass of glowing flecks upon the asphalt ground. The man casually brought his heel down, crushing it in a punishing grind. 

The ashes lay scattered in the wind, their light extinguished.

***

In the Go Institute, Akira could see the sky darkening, colouring a deep blue hue, the lights of nearby buildings around flash on in an orchestrated movement. 

The monotonous drone of conversation cut into his thoughts, forcing him to keep his attention focused on. Akira swirled the oolong tea gently, hearing the ice cubes clink against the side of the glass. 

He then resumed staring at the point three inches left of Amano-san's right ear. 

He really regretted Ogata-san's absence then—the man had a certain manner of speaking that would put even the most avid reporters off asking any questions. Amano-san's voice continued its monotonous drone, punctuated only by pauses for breath and light laughter.

The other man certainly didn't seem to notice that Akira wasn't paying any attention. That was fine by Akira, as long as he was content to do all the talking by himself. In fact, the man seemed more than happy to do just that. He'd supplied most of the information, which meant that all Akira had to do was to look politely interested, smile and nod quietly.

Akira brought the glass to his lips in one fluid motion, all the time keeping his eyes trained on Amano-san. If Go had taught him anything useful in real life, that was the ability to hone his concentration to a fine point.

It was therefore a simple matter to keep his mind on the interview and punctuate the conversation at the appropriate interval with an affirmative noise. 

Akira shifted slightly on the seat, careful to maintain his posture. Did entry into the Kisei League really warrant such a long interview? As far as he knew, the thread of conversation had long since departed from that. It had now launched into the uncertain realm of one's opinions on the various leading Go players. 

"… Do you view Ogata-Meijin as a potential enemy in the future? How about Kurata-6 dan?" Amano-san questioned.

Akira swirled his tea, pausing to gaze at the ice cubes bouncing merrily in the amber liquid. 

His answer came, cold and precise.

" All players are my rivals, and I will treat them as such. There is nothing more to it." 

***

The formless shadows flitted lightly, pierced at intervals with the shafts of light that pierced the dense canopy overhead. 

He stood up, adjusting his tie and smoothing his hands over the white coat. 

The evening light faded into deep sapphire. Ogata Seiji strode towards the Go institute, his dark outline but a diminishing figure in the horizon.

***

Akira repeated," All players are my rivals, and I will treat them as such. There is nothing more to it." 

It was the truth. It was the philosophy that had brought him through all the years, and made him the player he was. 

The ruthless, determined player. 

That grueling afternoon he'd gone through flashed back in his mind. Akira began to replay the game, step by step, adding private comments in certain moves made. 

He'd seized the bottom left corner and had begun to invade the bottom right, where a fierce fight had broken out. With that move on 4-17, he had secured he territory there for the most part, but—

A sudden movement caught his eye. Akira dragged his attention back to the present only to see Amano-san stand up and bow. His attention shifted automatically to the doorway, where he spotted Ogata leaning against the doorframe. 

"Ogata-sensei," Akira acknowledged the blond man smirking at the doorway with a slight bow. 

"I told Shindou-kun that you were here, and that you would be late. To save you the trouble." Ogata said with a fleeting smile. 

"Arigatou, Ogata-sensei. But it was not necessary for you to go to that inconvenience."

Ogata waved it off with a small gesture. " Shindou-kun was very upset that you were late."

Ä pregnant silence ensued. "You normally keep your appointments," 

Ogata moved from the door to take a seat adjacent to Akira. 

"The appointments with him…" Ogata began.

"Yes?"

"You should keep them." 

Akira blinked rapidly at this, trying to follow the last few seconds of conversation. He hid his surprise at Ogata's words.

"Hai, sensei, thank you for the reminder,"

An uneasy silence descended upon the room, each party hesitating over how to continue. The line of conversation was very odd. Akira shot inquisitive glances at Ogata, trying to read his expression, but the older man remained impassive as usual. 

Akira stood up. "Then I will keep my appointment, Ogata-sensei," He turned to Amano-san and bowed. Turning to the doorway—

"WHERE have you been?!?! I've been waiting since FIVE, and now its past SEVEN!!" An infuriated voice cut in from the doorway. 

"Gomenasai, Shindou. I was engaged by Amano-san for—"

"I don't care! You could at least give me a warning so that I don't have to sit at the steps of the Go Institute waiting for two and a half hours! And who do you normally call irresponsible?!" 

Akira glared at Hikaru, hoping that the boy would be sensible enough to keep quiet. Having to launch into a tirade now would be the last thing he wanted to do.

"I said I was sorry, now why don't we go out and discuss this please don't make a scene here Shindou," Akira spilled the words out quickly, hoping to stem the flow of insults about to come from Hikaru.

Akira turned to Ogata, bowing politely before taking Hikaru by the arm and dragging him out of the room. Ogata only turned away in response. 

From the hallway, heated shouts resonated through the institute. 

"I don't care what I said before this, Amano-san had to conduct an interview—"

"Damn it, at least give me a warning next time, if there is going to be a next time. I will NOT wait for you any more. Can't you at least—"

Amano-san blinked rapidly. "Ogata-sensei, do you _have_ to do that every time?"

Ogata turned the corners of his lips upwards.

***

The car started up in a cloud of smoke, its sleek crimson body cutting through the night. It turned the corner to rejoin the main road, melding seamlessly into the florescent glow of passing vehicles.

This time, in the diver seat, Ogata smiled… and then burst out laughing.

Nooooooooooooooo! This chapter is so horiibly fragmented and disjointed, and the language sucks and it's incoherent again!!!!!!! Why won't the stupid technician let me use the lab a little longer!!!!

Gomenasai~!!!!!*waves arms frantically*


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